


A Short Lived Fix

by grump_ass



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, M/M, connor is gay and trying to make friends, markus is just as clueless, north: he’s nice to me so we should date right, this took me an entire month to write so if we could pour one out for my brain that’d be grand, tina is beautiful and if i wasn’t a dude i’d ask her to marry me, tina: no????
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-08 20:30:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16436267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grump_ass/pseuds/grump_ass
Summary: It’s deathly quiet, but if North shuts her eyes and focuses, she can hear the distant thrum of the city, its lights pulsating purple across her eyelids. She raises her chin up to the sky and relaxes her shoulders as she breathes in. Markus says nothing, his hand a gentle, but half hearted weight in her own. When North opens her eyes, he is staring out at the city before them.There is a question looming over their heads, but neither goes to voice it. They have mutually decided to let it stay, festering in the silence between them. North finds that she can phrase it perfectly as well as never begin to wrap her head around it.It is one question. But it is a heavy one.Markus looks at her with a smile. It’s tender, and full of love, but something in the set of his lips is off. She looks at him, and is unable to smile back. She only squeezes his hand, and looks at the Detroit skyline.(In which North loves Markus, and doesn't get why being with him feels so wrong. Featuring RK1K and our favorite lesbian police officer: Tina Chen)





	A Short Lived Fix

**Author's Note:**

> this took me a month to write and edit. i would like my death quick and painless, please. also fuck david cage.

It’s deathly quiet, but if North shuts her eyes and focuses, she can hear the distant thrum of the city, its lights pulsating purple across her eyelids. She raises her chin up to the sky and relaxes her shoulders as she breathes in. Markus says nothing, his hand a gentle, but half hearted weight in her own. When North opens her eyes, he is staring out at the city before them.

 

There is a question looming over their heads, but neither goes to voice it. They have mutually decided to let it stay, festering in the silence between them. North finds that she can phrase it perfectly as well as never begin to wrap her head around it.

 

It is one question. But it is a heavy one.

 

Markus looks at her with a smile. It’s tender, and full of love, but something in the set of his lips is off. She looks at him, and is unable to smile back. She only squeezes his hand, and looks at the Detroit skyline.

* * *

 

The internet is scattered with screen grabs of their kiss. There is a place for them at the forefront of this revolution, a place for them to display what androids are capable of on an emotional and interpersonal level. Their love is familiar, in the sense that it is something that only the soulful can have, something that only those who feel can experience. The capacity to love is now what ties the humans and the androids together, provides some discernible point of sameness that the humans can comprehend.

 

North looks at the photographs of them, and feels awful when she picks them apart piece by piece. The one that she keeps coming back to is the kiss. There is a stiffness in Markus’ jaw, her own back as straight as a board. Their hands glow white in the photos, their palms flat against the other’s.  

 

“What would you like to tell the viewers at home?” the host asks, and North looks away from the screen behind her.

 

The humans in the audience are watching expectantly, waiting for their answer with bated breath. Markus is pressed into her side, their fingers laced together. He looks at her and raises an eyebrow; a silent invitation for her to answer the question. She shoots him a quick _‘This one’s all yours,’_  before severing the connection. Markus smiles at her and turns to the host with a shrug.

 

“We share one thing, at least,” Markus says, “and that is the capacity to love.”

 

North manages to smile and presses a kiss to Markus’ cheek. It lacks every emotion in her arsenal asides from the ghost of tenderness.

 

The humans eat that shit up. The audience coos along with the host as Markus kisses her forehead in return. They wrap the interview up and hurry off stage.

 

“Let’s go,” Connor says from his spot in the wings, “there’s a taxi outside for you two. Simon, Josh and I will be close behind.”

 

The deviant hunter has established himself as Markus’ (and, by extension, North’s) personal bodyguard. Markus seems put off by the whole ordeal, but ultimately tolerates it with a good natured grumble. Secretly, North is relieved by Connor’s presence. They’ve had more than their fair share of death threats in the months following the revolution. Connor is a more than welcome presence in the sense that he is relatively unsuspecting.

 

Josh has affectionately dubbed him pretty boy for that reason. While Connor is undeniably beautiful, he was designed to look innocent. He resembles a puppy in that way, with big brown eyes and a soft face. He even tilts his head when he is confused. He was made to be trustworthy and likeable. That sweet face is only disconcerting when he speaks; he takes on an intensity when he talks, and his voice echoes from the steel soundbox planted deep in his throat.

 

In short, he’s perfect for this job.

 

He nods at North, and she nods back. Markus smiles at him and thanks him before pulling North along. They exit through the back of the studio and crawl into the taxi awaiting them. It heads for New Jericho as soon as they are seated, its doors sliding shut with a soft puff of air behind them.

 

Markus holds her hand in his, but his attention is on his phone. From the way his thumb dances across the screen, North can tell that he is either responding to emails or checking how they are doing on social media. She looks out the window while he does that. The streets are dark, the buildings covered by shadows so dark and so deep that she can barely see their windows.

 

“That went well,” Markus says, so suddenly and so quietly that, at first, North thinks that he is talking to himself. When he squeezes her hand she looks at him.

 

“It did,” she agrees, “so, that’s good.”

 

“Very good,” he says with a gentle smile.

 

She squeezes his hand back. Markus returns to his phone, and North looks back out the car window. She watches as they cut through the heart of the city, and the shadows of long abandoned houses are replaced with the neon glow of electronic billboards and laundromat signs.

 

They’ve barely sat down upon arriving at New Jericho when Simon busts in, Connor and Josh on his heels. He points at them and smiles.

 

“Let me get some pictures,” he says, gesturing to where they are on the couch.

 

North slides closer to Markus and lets him wrap an arm around her shoulders. She leans into his side and looks at Simon, smiling so that he can take a picture. Connor watches from behind them, seemingly unimpressed with the impromptu photoshoot. When Simon is satisfied, Markus kisses North on the cheek and gets up.

 

“Can I get you some thirium, Connor?”

 

Connor perks up at that and nods. Josh pipes up about wanting some, too, and North nods her head when Markus shoots her a quizzical look. He heads to the kitchen, leaving North alone on the couch. She tries to entertain herself by guessing what caption Simon is putting on their pictures.

 

Probably something about what a long night it was, and how grateful they are for another interview that asks, once again, if they actually deserve to not be used like magazines or toilet paper. Although, Simon will probably be less snarky and more of a kiss ass.

 

That’d be why he’s in charge of social media, and North isn’t.

* * *

Markus sleeps with his back to her. When she looks over his body, his brows are furrowed, lips parted ever so slightly. She turns the lamp on her side of the bed off and slides down the headboard until she is lying flat on the mattress.

 

Her eyes chart the turns of the ceiling fan overhead. Its stark white paint is chipped and coming off in flakes. She can see a piece fluttering out of the corner of her eye before it disappears. When she turns her back to Markus, the window glares back at her, the night spilling in through its glass panels.

 

Finally, she turns around and wraps her arms around Markus. He lets out a sigh and presses back to her in his sleep, and she takes his hands in hers. She likes that she can be affectionate with Markus without any expectations, that she can hold his hand and let him hold her without being asked for anything in return. North likes affection with no expectations; the ability to be held and cared for without having to hurt for it. That’s why she likes Markus, she thinks.

 

North presses her face into the space between Markus’ shoulder blades and exhales.

 

“You smell like paint,” she whispers into his back.

 

“Mhm?” he mumbles, stirring awake. He rolls over to face her. “What was that?”

 

“Nothing,” she says, crawling back in so that she can press herself to his chest, “go back to sleep.”

 

Seemingly satisfied with her answer, he wraps his arms around her and holds her close, resting his chin on the top of her head as he drifts back to sleep. She lets him hold her, the beat of his silicone hear lulling her eyes shut.

* * *

Connor brings a human with him. She’s wearing the Detroit Police Department’s uniform, her dead straight hair pulled into a low ponytail under the back of her cap.

 

“Tina Chen,” she says when she shakes North’s hand.

 

“North.”

 

Tina’s lips twitch as she looks North over, curiosity showing. Her face breaks into the slightest of smiles.

 

“I’m just here to drop Connor off,” Tina explains, letting go of North’s hands to hook her thumbs into the loops of her belt, “lots of people have a problem with androids right now.”

 

“Can’t imagine why,” North remarks.

 

“Hmm,” Tina hums, looking at North, “yeah.”

 

North looks at Markus. He is leading Connor away, a hand on the android’s shoulder as he steers them both down the hall. North turns back to Tina.

 

“So,” she says, “are you going to hang out here until Connor is done, or-”

 

“Oh-” Tina starts, then shakes her head, “yeah, no, this was just on my way. I’ve got a scene to check out. I’ll pick him up on my way back. He has to be home by nine.”

 

“Any food allergies we should know about?” North asks, trying to crack a joke. It must land, because Tina snorts.

 

“He’s a grown ass android. He could shove his entire head in a beehive and that’d be his own choice. You don’t have to babysit him or anything.”

 

“Good.”

 

Tina waves over her shoulder as she walks away. North catches the edge of a tattoo under the hem of her jacket sleeve.

 

“Goodbye,” she says.

 

“Bye,” North replies.

* * *

Connor likes to be around Markus. That’s another reason North compares him to a puppy Just by the way that he trails behind Markus, never more than three paces away. Given that Markus is in possession of the rawest animal magnetism known to mankind, it’s pretty understandable. Markus speaks with weight and strides with purpose, and his smiles are as sweet as his eyes are haunting. His voice flows into emptiness and mingles with the air until the androids around him feel the need to breathe, as if they hope that his words will find a way into the inner workings of their systems.

 

But Connor does not look at Markus with that childish wonder that many other androids do. He has been guilty of it before, but for the most part, he is unnervingly straight faced around Markus, his shoulders taut and his jaw clenched. North has caught the glint of a pistol at his waist, and she still has moments where she is certain that he is going to pull it on Markus.

 

Which- he hasn’t. Yet. Norths knows that it’s just a practicality. He has it because they are currently at the epicenter of one of the biggest revolutions known to man. North even agrees that they need at least one armed man around Markus, even if Markus disagrees. She knows that her fear of Connor is irrational, and that the things he did under Cyberlife’s control do not decide who he is.

 

That hasn’t prevented her from acting on her impulses before, but she’s trying to work on that. Call it her New Year’s resolution.

 

North blinks from her chair across the room. Markus has cracked a horrible joke, and Connor’s face falls as his LED flickers yellow. He blinks at Markus with unadulterated disgust. Markus laughs. Connor lets out a long suffering sigh and shakes his head, batting Markus away when he leans in to ask Connor if he gets it.

 

“Get it?”

 

“Yes, Markus, I got it,” Connor responds, notably unimpressed.

 

Connor looks at North and raises an eyebrow like, _‘Is this guy for real?’_  North shrugs back.

 

“It’s funny, right?”

 

“No, it really isn’t.”

 

Markus beams at him, and North feels something click into place. She worries her thumb nail between her teeth and says nothing.

 

“I’m offended, sir,” Markus says.

 

“Stay offended then,” Connor says, but there’s no heat to the statement, and the corner of his mouth twitches when he speaks.

* * *

“This rain is kicking my ass,” Tina says in lieu of greeting, shaking out her umbrellas at the front doors as Connor skitters past, “I’m not looking forward to the drive back into the city.”

 

“Are you working again?” North asks.

 

“No, I’m off the clock. Connor needed a ride and Hank’s still paranoid about him getting in a taxi.  Something about it getting hacked and taking him to some underground Neo Cyberlife lair.”

 

“Wow.”

 

Simon walks up with a box in his hands. Tina cocks an eyebrow.

 

“Are those donuts?” she asks.

 

“Yeah. We had a meeting with some humans this morning, so we made sure to get food for them. Want one?”

 

He waggles the box in Tina’s direction until she takes it. Balancing the box on her her arm, she uses her right hand to open it. Her face lights up.

 

“Oh holy shit,” she exclaims, pulling one out, “you went to Dutch Girl.”

 

“They had good reviews,” Simon responds, beaming.

 

“Oh, dude,” she says, clumsily attempting to close the box with his elbow before North takes it back and closes it herself, “my dad used to take me all the time as a kid. We’d get up at the, like, ass crack of dawn and go get them. I usually go on Fridays, but I woke up late today and didn’t have time.”

 

She bites down, hand cupped under the donut. She licks a crumb off of her lip and groans.

 

“Sorry, sorry,” she sighs, “I know I’m being fucking ridiculous. They’re just so damn good.”

 

“Well now you’re making me wish I could eat donuts,” North says.

 

“If we ever get the technology, I’ll make sure to bring you something from Dutch Girl.”

 

“I’d like that.”

 

“It’s a date,” Tina promises, accepting a napkin from Simon and dusting off her lips.

* * *

Connor and Markus sit at the kitchen table. Connor is currently arguing that they need to have a security force for Jericho, while Markus insists that this will only raise suspicions around Jericho and what the androids are doing. North says nothing.

 

Secretly, she agrees with Connor. But Markus doesn’t need to know that.

 

“Oh my God,” Connor exclaims when Markus says, for the fourth time, that Jericho needs to be an easily accessible place. He throws his hands up. “The last time Jericho’s doors were left open, it got blown up.”

 

“And whose fault was that?” Markus asks.

 

“Mine. I also tried to kill you,” Connor points out, jabbing his finger into the kitchen table, “and if you’d had people on watch, they could have stopped me before the ship got blown up. I know that you don’t want to make the humans distrust us. But what you need to understand-”

 

“I don’t need to-”

 

“No,” Connor interrupts, “you need to understand that pacifism does not make you bulletproof. Extremists love pacifists. They’re hunters, and we’d be the perfect sitting target.”

 

North watches Markus blink. His shoulders tighten up, and he drums his fingers on the table. He reaches for his mug of thirium after a second and takes a sip. When he puts it back down, he’s fighting back a smile.

 

“If you want to endanger innocent lives for the sake of good publicity, then be my guest,” Connor rants, not really paying attention to Markus now, “but don’t expect me to blindly agree with everything that you say just because you led the revolution>”

 

Markus laughs softly.

 

“What?” Connor challenges, squinting at him, “am I wrong?”

 

“No,” Markus chuckles, staring down at his thirium, “you’re absolutely right.”

 

When he looks at Connor, his eyes change. They’re nowhere near as startling as they usually are; they’re softer, warmer. North runs her eyes over Markus’ face, and doesn’t recognize the smile teetering at the corner of his mouth.

 

He looks away from Connor for just a moment. As soon as his eyes land on North, his smile falters. He does not look back at Connor, electing instead to press his chin into his hand.

 

“What do you think, North?”

 

North hesitates, then pushes off the counter.

 

“I agree with Connor,” she says, despite the feeling that there’s little point in saying anything now, “we need to keep Jericho safe. We can’t do that if we don’t have any form of security. I’m not saying that we bar any androids from entering, of course.”

 

“Me neither,” Connor agrees, “but we need androids who are keeping an eye on everything. It’s a safety precaution.”

 

“Yeah, exactly.”

 

Connor looks at North and nods in silent approval. North nods back and says nothing. She watches as Markus shoots a fleeting glance Connor’s way. He stares at him, eyes darting away just as Connor looks up.

 

She leans back into the counter and folds her arms. The sun beats down over her face, its warmth ineffective against the icy thing scraping through her chest.

* * *

 

“How’d you deviate,” Tina asks, kicked back in a lawn chair, “if you don’t mind me asking.”

 

North brought her up to the roof as a sign of good faith. It’s technically her and Markus’ spot, but she figures he wouldn’t mind. Besides, it’s actually quiet.

 

“Yeah,” North says, staring down the cigarette between her fingers, “I’d rather not talk about it.”

 

Tina grimaces.

 

“Sorry. I work these cases and shit. I know it’s not usually a happy story.”

 

“Yeah. It usually isn’t. I’m not special.”

 

“I politely disagree, ma’am,” Tina says, grinning, “you are plenty special.”

 

“State your case.”

 

“One: you held an integral role in one of the single most peaceful revolutions ever.”

 

“False. I wanted to blow everything up and absolutely would have if I’d gotten the majority vote.”

 

“But you didn’t. Also, I’m not going to say anything because I’m cool like that, but maybe don’t tell random police officers that you wanted to decimate an entire city.”

 

“Noted.”

 

“Two: you are shockingly good at french braids. Like, what the hell, girl.”

 

“I’m an android. It just looks like that.”

 

“Dammit, woman, let me compliment you.”

 

North snorts, and Tina walks over to take away her cigarette.

 

“I’m genuinely shocked that androids can smoke,” she admits as she takes a puff of North’s cigarette. She hands it back over.

 

“It makes us look more human. And I like doing it. It’s soothing.”

 

“That’s why humans do it, too, I think. I honestly need to quit, but-” Tina shakes her head, “but that’s not important.”

 

“No, now I’m intrigued,” North says, smiling, “tell me everything about you.  You’ve piqued my interest.”

 

Tina flushes and looks down at her hands. She leans over the edge of the rooftop, resting her elbows on the concrete barrier. North leans over too, passing the cigarette to her. She takes it back and inhales.

 

“Where to start,” Tina muses, “I was born in 2004. So, Gen Z baby. I’ve been working at the DPD for about five years. I have a dog-”

 

“Pause. What kind of dog?”

 

Tina grins.

 

“German Shepherd. Her name is Lila.”

 

“I like that. Okay, keep going.”

 

“I went to Detroit University, and then to the Detroit Police Academy. I’ve lived here my whole life. And I’m, like, super gay.”

 

“Interesting,” North says, “how gay, did you say?”

 

“Just, like, super fucking gay,” Tina says, smiling.

 

“Cool,” North says with a smile. She takes the cigarette back and sticks it between her lips, “so is there a Ms. Tina Chen at home?”

 

“Regrettably, no. The only lady in my life is Lila. I think she likes having my undivided attention, but between you and me, she’s so needy that I may need to step on getting her a mom sometime soon.”

 

“I’ll let you know if I meet any ladies worthy of being her mom.”

 

“Thank you.” Tina grins and snaps her fingers. “And there’s number three. You’re weirdly easy to talk to.”

 

“You’d be the first to say that,” North laughs, “most people seem to fear me.”

 

“They merely fear your power.”

 

“Thank you, I try,” North says, taking a fake bow.

 

Tina claps politely, laughing when North tries to curtsy and nearly topples over. She reaches out and holds her up, hands at her waist as North restabalizes herself. Once North is standing upright, she takes her hands away. North gives her the cigarette to finish off.

 

“Don’t fall,” Tina chuckles, “I have no idea how to repair an android.”

 

“Remind me to never break down around you,” North retorts, with a grin so wide that her face would hurt if it could.

* * *

“Markus isn’t here,” North says when Connor walks in, “he’s in a meeting.”

 

“I know. I wanted to come in now,” he responds, walking over to the couch.

 

“Did Tina drop you off?” North asks, watching as Connor wavers awkwardly between an armchair and the couch she’s on before choosing the chair.

 

“No, I took a taxi.”

 

“Hank let you do that?”

 

“Hank is my friend, not my handler,” he states, “he doesn’t _let_ me do anything.”

 

Now, that is one thing that North really likes about Connor. He says what’s on his mind.

 

“My bad. Markus will probably get out in half an hour.”

 

“His meeting ends at 5:40?” Connor asks.

 

“No. It was supposed to end at four. His meetings usually run long.”

 

Connor nods slowly. He takes a coin out of his pocket and begins to toss it back and forth. North watches as his motions speed up, until the coin is flashing between his fingers, sliding down his arms and standing upright on his knuckles.

 

“That’s pretty cool,” she offers after a few minutes of watching. Connor looks up, hands stilling.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Is that a-” North pauses, trying to think of how she wants to phrase this, “a programming thing, or just something you do?”

 

“It’s not technically a part of my programming,” Connor admits, flushing blue and casting a small smile her way, “but it incorporates a lot of my skills. Things like motor function and coordination come into play as well.”

 

“It’s cool,” North repeats.

 

“Would you like to try?” Connor asks.

 

“Sure.”

 

Connor gets up, fishing another coin out of his pocket. He sits down besides her on the couch, and she takes the coin. He throws his quarter between his hands until she copies him with her own silver dollar. He starts to catch it with his fingers, and after some failed attempts to replicate the trick (one of which ends with a silver dollar flying directly into Connor’s nose) North manages to do the same.

 

“Why aren’t you at the meeting?” Connor asks after North has gotten the coin to successfully land between her fingers for several minutes.

 

“I don’t go to all of them,” North says, throwing the coin into the air with one hand and catching it between the middle and pointer fingers on the other, “Markus likes taking all this on himself, but he doesn’t want any of us to be in meetings constantly.”

 

“You know, I’m not particularly fond of when androids call him a messiah, but he does have the sacrificial streak of one.”

 

“Yeah,” North chuckles, “I like to call him Robo Jesus.”

 

“That’s an excellent nickname,” Connor says, smiling, “it’s accurate, but not as flattering as calling him a messiah.”

 

“Gotta keep him humble, I suppose.”

 

“He’s already very humble.”

 

“True.”

 

“Who’s already very humble?” Markus asks. “Hello, Connor.”

 

He walks over to North and kisses her forehead. She smiles, but Connor is quiet. His smile is gone, replaced by stone like coolness. The coin flies to a stop against his palm, and North lets hers fall into her lap.

 

“Nobody,” North says, watching Connor shift in his seat, “we were just talking.”

 

“Hmm,” Markus hums, already next to Connor, The android stands up, and Markus places a hand on his shoulder. North notices the way that his shoulders sag under his touch.

 

“Should we go?” Markus asks, smiling brightly.

 

“Yes, we should,” Connor says, looking at North, “it was nice talking to you.”

 

“Bye,” she says, handing him his coin, “thanks for teaching me.”

 

Connor takes the coin with a nod, and North crosses her arms and nods back.

 

“I’ll be back,” Markus promises her, hand still lingering on Connor’s shoulder.

 

She can’t help but stare at Markus’ hand, watching the way his fingers move slightly to grip Connor’s jacket. He brushes something off of it, then slowly takes his hand away. Connor watches his hand fall, then looks at North. Neither one of them says anything, and Markus leads him away, asking if he’ll teach Markus how to do the coin trick.

 

North throws her head back, staring up at the ceiling through cloudy eyes. She makes herself breath around the weight on her chest. She doesn’t know why she feels this way.

 

She wants to call Tina all of a sudden. She should have asked Connor if she was at work.

* * *

Tina grimaces at the thirium pouch. North takes it and empties it into a cup anyways.

 

“We have tea,” she offers, and Tina sags with relief.

 

“Sorry,” she says, stepping over so North can reach into the cabinet behind her for the box of tea, “blue blood isn’t really my thing.”

 

“I don’t think it’s even safe for humans to drink.”

 

“Probably not.”

 

Tina takes the empty kettle off of the stove and goes to fill it with water. North puts her hand on Tina’s to stop her before taking the kettle and rinsing out.

 

“I saw Simon use this a couple hours ago. He makes this really good thirium-tea fusion, but he never remembers to clean the kettle after.”

 

Tina shuts her eyes and exhales slowly out her nose.

 

“I’m going to poison myself at some point in this house,” she says somberly.

 

“We’d probably have to dispose of your body in the woods or something if you did,” North states, scrubbing the pot clean before filling it with water, “we can’t afford a murder trial. No offense.”

 

“None taken. Just light me up and send me down the river. Valhalla and shit.”

 

“You know, I don’t think that’s nearly as inconspicuous as you think it is.”

 

“I don’t see what you mean,” Tina deadpans, shrugging, “you stick me in a boat, recite a Norse chant, then start shooting flaming arrows at me. Super lowkey, nobody will notice.”

 

North laughs at that, but it comes out higher and far more bubbly than she means for it to. She claps a hand over her mouth as her giggles die.

 

“It’s my dying wish, dude,” Tina says, leaning against the counter, “it’s the least that you can do if you accidentally poison me.”

 

“Who said anything about it being an accident?”

 

“Let’s labor under the delusion that you would never harm an innocent cop who just wanted to have a drink that wasn’t laced with battery acid.”

 

North rolls her eyes. She looks down at Tina’s bare arms. Without a jacket on, Tina’s tattoo sleeves are on full display. Tina follows North’s stare and smiles.

 

“Yeah, I got them when I was eighteen,” Tina says, pushing her shirt sleeve up her shoulder and flexing, “I wear long sleeves for my uniform, so they’re usually covered up.”

 

“I like them,” North says, staring at Tina’s bicep. She starts to reach out, then pulls her hand back. She looks at Tina.

 

“You can touch them,” Tina offers, and North reaches out to trace the tattoos. She feels a scar under her fingers.

 

“I almost got a bullet in that arm,” Tina explains, “but it just grazed me. Fucked up that part of the sleeve, but I got a touch up once it healed.”

 

“That’s good,” North says, her heart slamming around in her chest.

 

She runs her finger down one of the lines, and Tina shivers. North pulls her hand back.

 

“Sorry,” she apologizes.

 

“No, don’t worry, you can-” Tina coughs and puts her arm down, “it’s fine, I just got a chill.”

 

North opens her mouth to respond, but the whistle of the tea kettle cuts her off. She goes over to the stove and empties the kettle into a mug, the tea bag at the bottom floating up with the water. TIna takes the mug.

 

“So,” Tina says, curling her finger around the string of the tea bag and meditatively twirling it in the water, “how’s it going in robot heaven?”

 

“What?” North asks.

 

“You and Robo Jesus.”

 

“I don’t follow.”

 

“Markus,” Tina clarifies, “you and Markus.”

 

The question hits her like a slap even though it shouldn’t. It falls over her with a crash as her inner voice drones back, _oh, yeah. Markus._

 

“Oh,” North exclaims, stiffening up, “no, we’re good. Really good.”

 

“Well,” Tina says, shoving her hand in her back pocket, “that’s good.”

 

“Yeah. It’s good.”

 

“Must be nice. Having your relationship be, like. The Reason androids got their freedom.”

 

North flushes and ducks her head.

 

“I wouldn’t call us the reason,” she says.

 

“I mean-” Tina stops when North doesn’t look up, “nevermind.”

 

North smiles weakly. She lets out a breathless laugh, staring down at the floor. She wraps her arms around her waist and breathes out.

 

“I guess it’s nice.”

 

Her mouth forms a tight line. Her eyes burn brilliantly, and it takes what feels like forever for her to convince herself to look up. Finally, she does, forcing another smile.

 

Tina is frowning, her brows furrowed.

 

“What?”

 

“You’re crying,” Tina says softly.

 

They say nothing as North touches the surface just beneath her eye. Her fingers come away wet, and she scrubs what remains of her tears away. North’s mind is blank, her voice caught in her throat. TIna sucks her lips in, exhaling sharply through her nose before opening her mouth with a pop. She pushes off of the counter and moves closer to North.

 

“You know that you don’t have to stay with him for appearances, right?” Tina asks, placing her hands on North’s elbows and ducking down so that she can look into North’s eyes, “you don’t have to pretend anything. You’re your own person now.”

 

“He’s a good guy.”

 

“I’m sure he is.”

 

“He is,” North insists, “and I love him.”

 

“I know you do. And I’m positive that he loves you back.”

 

“Then what are you talking about?”

 

“I don’t think you two love each other like that.”

 

North jerks away from Tina and stumbles back like she’s been struck.

 

“Where the fuck did that come from?” North hisses.

 

“Sorry, do androids sweat through their eyes, or were you upset just now?”

 

“Oh, Jesus Christ.”

 

“And, not to be a useful lesbian here, but you were the one groping my arm.”

 

“Woah, hey,” North says, pointing at Tina, “you said I could touch them.”

 

“That’s not the problem. I’m just saying that I wasn’t getting hit with platonic vibes, gal.”

 

“Are you a fucking teenager?” North asks in disbelief, “I wasn’t declaring my love or some shit. I touched your arm.”

 

“Listen,” Tina says gently, “I’m just saying that I don’t think you and Markus are nearly as in love as you pretend to be.”

 

“What the fuck makes you say that?”

 

“You started crying as soon as I brought up your _boyfriend_ ,” Tina insists, “who, need I remind you, you never talk about.”

 

“I don’t-” North shakes her head and holds her hands up to her face, “I just have no fucking clue what you mean.”

 

“I told you what I think,” Tina says, voice sharpening, “I think that you and Markus are just together out of obligation. I think that you needed to do something dramatic to sway the humans in your favor, so you kissed. And you had the misfortune of having your kiss be the key to your freedom. And now, because the country, if not the world, has its eyes on you, you feel the need to force yourself to pretend like you have romantic feelings for each other. And, I don’t think that either one of you consider what you have to be an actual relationship.”

 

“Okay, so,” North laughs angrily, “asides from my Declaration of Love, what makes you think that we aren’t committed to each other?”

 

“Jesus Christ, North,” Tina spits out, “do you just not pay attention when your boyfriend starts eye fucking Connor?”

 

Tina’s mouth snaps shut. She slaps a hand over her mouth, almost as if to shove the words back in. Instead, they stagnate between them, thick and sharp as a dagger. It’s unexpected, and it makes everything in North’s innerworkings lurch to a halt.

 

“What do you mean?” North asks.

 

Tina says nothing, eyes blown wide in horror.

 

“What do you mean, Tina?”

 

Tina blinks back, hand falling from her face so that it smacks onto the counter. She stares into North, eyes so sad and so shocked that North feels the urge to rip her own processor out and chuck it through the kitchen window.

 

“Oh my God,” Tina whispers, “you really, really don’t know.”

 

North goes numb. Tina shuts her mouth and puts her mug of untouched tea in the sink.

 

“I think I should go,” Tina says. She rolls her sleeve back down. “Sorry for asking about Markus.”

 

“Tina,” North rasps, and she reaches out to touch her arm. Tina jerks away from her.

 

“Bye, North,” Tina says, not looking at her, “just- Bye.”

 

North watches her leave. She watches the door slam shut behind her so hard that the frame shakes. She watches the ceiling fan wobble, several chips of paint falling off before it recenters and continues to spin. She watches the steam come out smaller and slower from Tina’s cup, until it’s gone and her drink is cold.

 

North absentmindedly empties the cup. She throws out the tea bag, then goes to wash it.

 

She doesn't even get it under the water before she whips around and throws it against the wall, swinging it by its handle with a scream that shakes its way out from deep inside of her.

* * *

She wraps her arms tighter around him when he sleeps that night. He presses back into her again, radiating heat. That question still burns, but a newer, uglier one presents itself. And try as she might to push it away, she cannot.

 

Markus sighs happily in his sleep, and North wonders if he can dream. She closes her eyes and tries to sleep. He laughs softly, but North feels it ripple through his chest. And she realizes that, if he could dream, and if he could dream about someone, anyone, it would not be her.

 

As quickly as it came, that ugly new question is answered. And North is back to having only one question.

* * *

She goes to the police station three weeks later to talk to Tina. Instead of seeing her, however, she ends up face to face with the one person she wants nothing to do with at the moment.

 

“North,” Connor says, walking over to her, “how are you?”

 

“I’m fine,” North says, shoving her fists in her pockets, “is Tina here?”

 

“No, she went on patrol. But she should be back soon.”

 

“Yo, Robo Cop,” someone behind him hollers, “get back over here.”

 

“I’ll be there in a minute,” Connor shouts back before looking at North, “is there anything that I can do for you?”

 

“No.”

 

_Stop trying to fuck my boyfriend._

 

“Alright,” Connor says, “well, she’ll be back soon.”

 

“Cool.”

 

“How has your day been?”

 

“Fine.”

 

She isn’t going to fall over herself to be cordial with Connor if he doesn’t even have the decency to leave Markus alone. If he doesn’t even respect North enough to stay away from her boyfriend.

 

“That’s good. What have you been doing?”

 

“Nothing. So Tina’s going to be back soon?”

 

“Yes, she should be. How’s Markus? It’s been a few days-”

 

“Connor, I don’t really feel like talking right now,” North interrupts.

 

Connor’s face falls. North focuses on the floor, her hands in tight fists at her sides. Connor’s feet shuffle around her line of sight before stopping unsteadily.

 

“I’m sorry,” Connor starts, “I didn’t-”

 

“Connor,” the detective repeats, “what the fuck are you doing?”

 

He walks over from behind a cubicle, and North quickly decides that he is definitely not Connor’s usual partner, Hank. He’s much younger, almost that same age that her and Connor are designed to be. He squints at her, the scar across his nose wrinkling with the movement.

 

“Who are you?”

 

“This is North,” Connor says, “North, this is Gavin Reed. I work with him when Hank isn’t here.”

 

“Yeah, unfortunately,” Gavin huffs, still looking at North, “which one is she?”

 

North stiffens up at that, and Connor starts to put himself between her and Gavin.

 

“She helped organize the revolution,” Connor states calmly, but his eyes seem to blaze, “and she’s one of the leaders of Jericho.”

 

Gavin squints harder at her.

 

“Right,” Gavin says, scratching his jaw, “that one.”

 

“Okay,” North says, “sorry, Connor. You can get back to whatever it was that you two were doing. Obviously it’s important.”

 

Gavin grimaces pretty aggressively at that, but he shakes it off and exhales slowly.

 

“Alright, tin man,” he grits out, not looking away from North, “get back to work. And don’t just run off every time one of your pals comes in. Got it?”

 

“Don’t talk to him like that,” North snaps.

 

Connor, who had seemed pretty resigned to Gavin’s commands, looks at her at that. Gavin raises an eyebrow.

 

“What?”

 

“You don’t get to treat him like a piece of shit just because he’s an android.”

 

“I wasn’t being a dick. Can you chill with the accusatory tone?”

 

“Why do you have to be a dick? He’s allowed to talk to people.”

 

“I didn’t say he wasn’t. But we’re at _work_ right now.”

 

“Hey,” Connor says, “it’s alright.”

 

“No, it isn’t,” North insists, “you don’t have to tolerate this kind of shit, Connor.”

 

“What shit,” Gavin asks around Connor, who has now firmly established himself between them.

 

“North,” he whispers, leaning in, “your stress levels are rising. Please calm down.”

 

“Don’t tell me to calm down,” she warns softly.

 

Gavin steps back at that, which would piss North off if she wasn’t absolutely certain that her LED is solid red at the moment. Connor turns his back on the officers to block her from their view.

 

“North,” he intones softly, “Gavin’s right. We’re in the middle of something, and I should have waited before greeting you.”

“You don’t have to make the humans like you anymore,” North tells him, but the anger in her voice is already fading.

 

“I know,” he promises, “we don’t have to appease anyone. But Gavin and I are currently trying to locate a violent anti android extremist before they kill someone else. And-”

 

Connor hesitates, then leans closer.

 

“And, between you and me,” he whispers, “I get the feeling that there is something troubling you, and that you are not at your best.”

 

North freezes at that, and Connor takes the opportunity to turn her around and lead her to the doors.

 

“Why don’t you wait outside,” Connor suggests, “I can send Tina out when she gets back.”

 

She lets him walk her outside. The parking lot is bustling with humans, and Connor makes efficient work of steering them around the people.

 

“I’m sorry, Connor,” North says softly.

 

Connor smiles, brows furrowed.

 

“Why?”

 

“I’m just a real asshole sometimes.”

 

“We all have our bad days,” Connor responds.

 

“Most people’s bad days don’t last five months.”

 

“And how do you know that?”

 

North looks at him, and he pats her shoulder. She closes her eyes and sighs.

 

“I’m sorry, Connor,” she repeats.

 

“Why are you sorry this time?”

 

“Because I’m the worst.”

 

Connor snorts. North looks at him and frowns, but he shakes his head and waves her off.

 

“You really do have a flair for the dramatic. I think that’s why we get along so well.”

 

North doesn’t know if Connor being so nice is making her feel better or worse. She decided to tell herself that it makes her feel better.

 

“Hank tells me I’m dramatic, at least,” Connor clarifies.

 

“He’s probably right. The first time we met you followed Markus out of a window.”

  
“So did you,” Connor argues.

 

“Yeah, but I’d known him for a while at that point. What connection did you guys have?”

 

Connor flushes, and North wishes she didn’t ask. She shakes her head and laughs it off.

 

“I’m sorry I caused a scene,” she says.

 

“It’s alright. I’m glad that I got to see you. And I’ll make sure to tell Tina you’re here.”

 

“Oh,” North hesitates, “no, you don’t have to do that anymore.”

 

“North?”

 

North and Connor look over to see Tina in the parking lot. She gestures for her partner to take someone inside before jogging over to them.

 

“Tina,” Connor greets, “North wanted to talk to you-”

 

“Nope, not anymore,”  North interrupts, “bye, Connor. Sorry for almost fighting your coworker.”

 

She tries to get away, but Tina hurries over before she can and takes her arm.

 

“North, what’s wrong?” she asks, “what are you doing here?”

 

“I’m sorry, Tina. I have to go.”

 

North manages to twist out of Tina’s hold and hurry away. Tina tries to follow her, but she moves fast, striding off of the DPD property before Tina can reach her.

 

She didn’t get what she was looking for, but she feels better.

* * *

“What’s on your mind?” Markus asks as he adjust the half of the blanket around her shoulders.

 

North doesn’t answer at first, instead focusing on her cigarette and the top of the city. Markus holds her close as they each smoke their own cigarettes.

 

“Nothing,” she says after a while.

 

The silence is palpable as Markus searches for something to say. He takes a hit off of his cigarette before pulling off and talking his way through smoke.

 

“It’s beautiful tonight,”  he exhales, “gorgeous. I should paint something up here.”

 

“That’d be nice,” North says, and she means it.

 

Markus pouts.

 

“Really, what’s on your mind?”

 

“I said nothing.”

 

“Okay,” he says gently, squeezing her hand, “okay, I’m sorry.”

 

She leans into his side, and he rests his head on top of hers. North doesn’t feel like she’s going through the motions with when they just sit like this. Markus’ constant pestering aside, moments like these are nice. Just them, in the quiet, taking everything in.

 

She loves Markus so much. She doesn’t get why everything always has to be so damn hard between them. They really are good together. The hand on hers is a nice weight, without the sweatiness of interlocked fingers or the pressure to take it further.

 

“North?” Markus asks, nudging her, “what do you think?”

 

North blinks at him.

 

“I wasn’t listening,” she admits, “I’m- I don’t know. I was thinking about something else. Honestly, I’m miles away.”

 

“Well,” he asks, squeezing her hand, “what were you thinking?”

 

She hesitates, then exhales.

 

“Two things. I’ve been thinking about two things?”

 

“These two things being?”

 

“I don’t think we really love each other,” she answers.

 

Markus is quiet. North watches his face go blank, and she imagines an LED at his temple spinning in noxious yellow. He looks at her and his frown deepens.

 

“So, that’s number one, I guess.”

 

“What do you mean by ‘we don’t really love each other?’” he asks.

 

“I mean that we don’t love each other,” she restates, finishing off her cigarette before flinging it over the concrete barrier of the roof, its orange embers glowing in the night before disappearing from sight.

 

“Yeah, I caught that,” Markus says, “I’m asking what you mean.”

 

“I’ve been thinking,” she says slowly, “about us. And I keep asking myself this one thing. I don’t really know how to put it to words. But I have an answer.”

 

She looks at Markus and smiles at him, and it’s only a little bit sad.

 

“You don’t love me, and I don’t love you.”

 

“Of course I love you,” Markus argues.

 

“Okay, yes, but not in the way you think you do,” she says, “I love you too, Markus. I love you because you’re selfless, and passionate, and you care about me. But I don’t love you like the humans think I do, and quite frankly I don’t think that you love me that way either. We aren’t the poster child for love that the humans are looking for.”

 

Markus looks at her, crestfallen. Then, he shuts his eyes and sighs.

 

“I know that,” he mumbles, “but I do love you. So, so much.”

 

“I love you too,” North says, “But I don’t think we want to be together.”

 

Markus opens his eyes again and waits patiently for her to finish talking. She looks down at her hands before speaking.

 

“I guess that’s the other thing I’ve been thinking about,” she says, “I think we want different people.”

 

She reaches for his hand and squeezes it. North looks into Markus eyes and smiles, barely.

 

“I think you want to be with Connor,” she says.

 

Markus’ breathing stops. She pats his face and takes the blanket off of her shoulders to wrap around his own. She stands up and kisses his forehead. He remains silent under her lips.

 

“You deserve to love who you want, Markus,” she mumbles into his forehead, “we both do. We don’t have to please anyone.”

 

Markus sags, and North pulls him into her, rubbing the back of his head.

 

“And I know we call you our leader and everything,” she says, “but you’re allowed to be, like, a real person. You don’t have to want the things that the humans want. Fuck them.”

 

Markus laughs at that.  He looks up at her and any joy on his face disappears.

 

“Do I make you unhappy?” he asks.

 

“No. I just don’t want to be with you like this.”

 

“Does it make you uncomfortable?”

 

“Sometimes,” she admits.

 

Markus groans, getting to his feet to pull her into a hug. She hugs him back.

 

“I’m sorry, North.”

 

“I’m sorry, too, Markus.”

 

They hold each other for a while longer, with Markus petting her back as she scratches his head. The wind curls around them, sending the ends of the blanket around Markus’ shoulders into intricate twists and dips around their knees. Markus pulls away from her and smiles sadly.

 

“I love you, North.”

 

“I love you, Markus.”

 

He hugs her again, and she lets him.

 

“So,” she asks, “was I on the mark with Connor?”

 

“Can we be broken up for a few more minutes before you try to play matchmaker?”

 

“Let me meddle, damn it.”

 

Markus snickers and hugs her tighter.

 

“Yes, you were right on target.”

 

“Nice.”

 

“And are you going to tell me who your person is?”

 

“Damn, you caught that. Sorry, dude, can’t tell.”

 

“You’re terrible.”

 

North steps away from him. Markus squeezes her hand, and they walk back to the door.

 

“So which one of us gets custody of the instagram page?” North asks.

 

“Simon. He poured his heart and soul into it.”

 

“Fair enough.”

 

Markus holds the door open for her, and she smiles at him before heading through. He takes her hand again once he’s inside and gives it a squeeze. They take the stairs two at a time, almost tripping over themselves in their excitement to get back to their friends.

* * *

North bounces back and forth on the balls of her heels. The white bag crinkles in her grip, but she’d rather hold that too tight than break the coffee cup in her other hand. She knocks the door with her head (Cyberlife’s best and brightest) and waits.

 

Tina opens her front door, fingers curled around a German Shepherd’s collar as she tries to keep the dog from darting into the street.

 

“North?” she asks, body jolting with the dog’s violent lunging.

 

“Hey,” North says, holding the bag up and waving it, “I got you donuts.”

 

Tina looks at the bag, then back at North.

 

“I’m sorry I was a bitch,” North says, “and I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you for almost two months. And I’m also really sorry that Markus is ruining your lunch breaks so he can make out with Connor in the break room. That’s not how I raised him.”

 

Tina raises an eyebrow, and North sighs.

 

“I really am sorry, Tina,” she says, “I should have known better than to get angry at you. I want to talk to you again. I like being with you.”

 

Tina blinks at that. For a second, North thinks that she’s about to get a door to the face. Which, to be fair, she would probably deserve.

 

But Tina doesn’t slam the door in her face. She smiles at North, her face lighting up as she goes to bear a crooked grin, a small laugh passing from her and straight into North’s heart. North smiles back, every circuit in her firing off. She takes in a deep breath, and lets her smile widen.

 

“Can I come in?” she asks.

**Author's Note:**

> wow i want to die. this fic would have been a hell of a lot shorter if i didn't decide after writing a quick and crappy oneshot that i wanted tina and north to fall in love or some shit. thanks, lesbians. 
> 
> follow me on tumblr at levijamesn OR rk1k-fics
> 
> i'm currently organizing a rk1k fanzine. for more info check out trustaconkusfanzine on tumblr
> 
> please leave a kudo or a comment if you read this. it'd mean the world to me.


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